


Team Building

by Pennygirl612



Category: White Collar
Genre: AU set early in first season, Gen, Protective Blake, Protective Diana, Protective Peter, heavy angst with emotion, minor depiction of suspect suicide, minor description of violence, platonic friendship between Neal and Peter, protective Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:54:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22529674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennygirl612/pseuds/Pennygirl612
Summary: Self-preservation apparently went out the window with Peter Burke when the obstacle before him was a bad guy pointing a gun, finger pressing down on the trigger, Neal only a few feet away…
Relationships: Elizabeth Burke/Peter Burke, Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey
Comments: 63
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't finished this story yet but have the remaining chapters mostly mapped out. Plan to update at least weekly until finished. I anticipate 3 to 4 chapters but then again sometimes the Muse gets a bit excited and wordy on me even though I keep telling her less is more.

Taking a long sip of whiskey, Peter closed his eyes allowing the burn to flow down and settle in his stomach. A moment later just when the heat started to dissipate, he kicked the remainder of the glass back in one shot and looked longingly at the bottle before reluctantly pushing away from the counter. Another one wouldn’t help, wouldn’t rid himself of the intense guilt he was feeling and would likely only postpone the conversation or more specifically the apology, he owed his wife. 

Shortly into their marriage, Peter and Elizabeth had had ‘the talk’. The one where his wife had looked him straight in the eye and said that while she recognized his work was potentially dangerous, she simply could not- would not- dwell on the fact that he could get hurt. And that was that. They never discussed it again. They hadn’t needed to. 

In every situation since that conversation, Peter had done everything possible to foresee negative consequences and mitigate unnecessary risk because he recognized that his life was now bigger than his own. And Peter had used his wife’s steadfast faith and uncompromising trust like a lighthouse beacon to steer clear of dangerous waters and obstacles that would prevent him from making it home. 

That was until today. Today he had been prepared to recklessly charge in, consequences be damned. There had been no thought of his own safety and most certainly no consideration of how the ripple effect of his careless actions could have ended up blindsiding his wife like a massive tsunami wave. Self-preservation apparently went out the window with Peter Burke when the obstacle before him was a bad guy pointing a gun, finger pressing down on the trigger, Neal only a few feet away… 

With a deep breath, Peter tried to clear his head but found the events of the day still too fresh, too vivid and colorful to erase just yet. The scene was on a never-ending loop that just kept playing again and again, too alarming to make a quiet exit from his thoughts. With a heavy sigh, Peter closed his eyes again and rubbed a hand across his face. He really, really needed to get a handle on his emotions before he faced Elizabeth.

As he mounted each step, it became more and more clear to Peter that he simply wasn’t ready to have that talk with his wife. He needed more time to process things so he bypassed their bedroom and continued with soft footsteps down the hall and into the bathroom. There, he turned the shower on full blast before turning his attention to the mirror hanging on the wall above the sink. You look like shit, he thought. His face was ghostly pale and his worry showed through in the prominent line etched into his forehead and with his pursed lips. None of this was as troubling as the lifelessness seen in the brown eyes that stared back at him. No way could his wife see him looking like this. Their marriage worked because she believed in him and right now he was having too much trouble believing in himself.

Quickly, he stripped off his clothes and stepped inside the shower despite the chill from water that hadn’t been given a chance to properly warm up yet. Under the spray, he placed a hand against the wall for support and lowered his head allowing the water to flow down his back hoping it would wash away his tension and self-doubt, but instead it only allowed his wandering mind freedom to rehash his nightmarish day.

It had started innocently enough with a rather straight forward investigation to determine who was embezzling money from a large Manhattan mortgage company. By the afternoon, they had identified their suspect with almost embarrassing ease since the vice-president of the company had not put much effort into covering his tracks. The company was a family run operation, and it was clear to Peter that the VP simply didn’t think anyone would ever look at the books let alone report his skimming to federal authorities. 

With the evidence so overwhelming, the case so cut and dry, Peter had made a decision that now haunted him. He hadn’t taken the time to dig deeper and because of it, he hadn’t seen the connection between the VP and the mid-level mafia hoodlum. As it turned out, the VP had an affinity for the horses but couldn’t pick a winner to save his soul. At the time of the investigation, the VP had been deep in gambling debt to the mob and long overdue in payment; a dangerous combination with potentially serious consequences. 

While Peter had ordered Jones to run a standard check to see if the VP owned a gun, Peter hadn’t known about the mistress the VP had on the side or the Glock nine millimeter registered under her name. Also unbeknownst to Peter were the very real and recent threats directed at the VP’s family if he didn’t soon pay up. All of which had helped change an ordinary family man into a man desperate enough to do anything to get out from under his problems including embezzling from his family’s business and carrying a gun for protection. If Peter had known any of this, he would have had SWAT present for the take down, and he most certainly would not have let Neal out of the surveillance van.

As it was, Neal had been front and center at the time of the arrest and things quickly took a downward turn. Rather than go quietly, the VP had pulled out that same nine millimeter pistol and waved it around while shouting out expletives. Peter and his agents had immediately found what little cover the office space provided. Diana had ducked behind a metal file cabinet to the right of the suspect and Blake had moved off to the left. He and Jones had crouched down behind a large wooden desk about a dozen or so feet away. And Neal--well Neal had stood frozen in place halfway between Peter and the gun-toting VP. 

Without thinking, simply reacting to the threat facing Neal, Peter had started to rise from his place of safety only to be jerked back down and held in place by Jones and his firm grasp on Peter’s belt. Unable to move, Peter had only been able to watch in helpless horror as the VP settled himself, pointed the gun, and squeezed the trigger. 

Peter had wanted to look away. From the close proximity, it was nearly impossible for the bullet to miss its target, and Peter didn’t want to watch as Neal fell to the ground. He didn’t want to see blood pouring from Neal’s body. He didn’t want to see the blame in those blue eyes from knowing that his handler had let him down, had failed to protect him as promised. After all getting shot was most certainly not part of the deal he had signed with the FBI.

Peter had wanted to look away but couldn’t and to his immense relief, he hadn’t seen Neal’s body fall or red liquid flowing from a bullet hole. And instead of the loud boom, Peter had heard only a soft click when the pistol’s hammer fell. The VP had made a critical miscalculation, a rookie mistake. He had failed to chamber a round in the gun. 

Instantly, Diana had moved from her spot of cover, grabbed Neal by his jacket and pulled him out of harm’s way. From the other side, Blake had started forward but ducked back again when he saw the VP correct his error with a quick pull back of the Glock’s slide. Now with no other clear target in sight, the VP had come to the conclusion it was over and his choices severely limited. Making his decision, the VP had ignored their shouts to put the gun down and had instead calmly turned the gun on himself. And that was the way Peter’s operation had ended; with the pulling of a trigger and their suspect lying dead on the vinyl floor. 

While the operation itself was over, in many ways that was when the real trouble had actually begun. Hearing Jones call for medics and seeing that Blake was already securing the clearly dead suspect, Peter had rushed over to Diana and to where a still shell-shocked Neal was lying on his back, knees bent up. A very irate Diana had been hovering over him, completely and utterly giving the young man hell.

“What the fuck where you doing?!” Diana had practically screamed at Neal who only looked up at her with dazed confusion. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?!”

Peter had reached out and touched her shoulder, startling her. “Di,” he had said softly and quickly raised his hands when it looked like she would strike him. “Go help Blake secure the scene.” Diana hadn’t responded but had put her own hands back down to her side, staring back at Peter through darkened eyes. 

“It’s over,” Peter had assured her. “It’s ok. Everyone’s ok.” Peter had heard his voice, heard how flat he had sounded. 

Following another tense couple of seconds, Diana had finally sucked in a breath and slowly exhaled. With it, her mood had lightened a little. “Yeah. Yeah alright. You got him?” When Peter had nodded, she had stood and walked away without another word. 

Turning his attention to Neal, Peter had laid a gentle hand on Neal’s chest feeling the rapid beating of his CI’s heart. Almost immediately at his touch, he had felt Neal’s heart begin to slow to a more stable rhythm. 

“Neal,” he had said. “Breathe. Look at me. Good. Now breathe.” Neal had blinked twice and inhaled sharply. Only then had Peter released the air he had been holding and allowed himself to collapse down beside Neal knowing it was over. Everyone, including Neal, was safe. 

After a moment of sitting there side by side in silence, Neal said something so soft Peter had to ask him to repeat it. Without looking up, Neal said, “I’m sorry Peter.”

Vehemently, Peter had waved his apology off. “You don’t need to apologize. This is on me, Neal, not you.”

With a nod in Diana’s direction, Neal continued as if not hearing what Peter had just told him. “Diana’s pissed at me.” Neal’s voice had sounded mournful and had nearly broken Peter right then and there.

Looking over at his junior agent, Peter had confirmed Neal was partially right. Diana was practically seething but the glare was no longer directed at Neal but at the man lying dead at her feet. Making a mental note to check in with her later, Peter had refocused his attention back on Neal who was now at least sitting up, his arms loosely resting on his knees.

“Don’t worry about Diana,” Peter had told him.

“But I-” Neal had started to protest only to have Peter cut him off once again.

“I told you. This is on me. I fucked up by putting you and the entire team in a bad situation. I’m sorry, Neal.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth has to deal with Peter's uncertainty and self doubt as well as have Peter recognize that Neal has become family. (This chapter is told completely from Elizabeth’s POV.)

The ‘don’t wait up’ text hadn’t sent up any red flares. Elizabeth was far too used to her husband working late for the text to be either unusual or uncommon which is why she hadn’t given a second thought to locking up the house and going to bed. She had even gone right to sleep, but typical of a night without her husband lying beside her, her sleep had been both light and restless. 

Elizabeth woke from her light slumber at the sound of the front door opening and closing signaling her husband was home. Smiling, Elizabeth repositioned from curled on her side to now lying flat on her back. Next she strategically moved a strand of her dark hair to lie across her left cheek. Closing her eyes, she purposely slowed her breathing to imitate sleep and waited for the sound of familiar footsteps on the stairs; footsteps that on this night were not immediately forthcoming. 

Frowning, Elizabeth was unsure of what to do since Peter remaining downstairs almost never happened. Any other night, she would have heard him drop his keys in the dish by the door before making his way upstairs to check in on her. Without a word, Peter would have entered their bedroom and come to stand by her side. From past experience, Elizabeth knew the limited light from the hallway would cast her husband’s shadow upon the bed while he silently watched over her for a moment or two. Next he would have carefully tucked the loose strand of hair behind her ear before bending down to brush a gentle kiss on her forehead. 

What he was thinking during this time, she never knew and could no more ask than Peter could tell her. After all, it was a game of pretend that they both played. She pretended to be asleep while Peter pretended not to realize she was actually awake. She knew this thing of theirs was a mutual way of coping and had almost become its own ritual, one that neither wanted to ever call the other out on for fear it would somehow disturb a secret balance they had established between them.

So Peter not climbing the stairs on this particular night had Elizabeth feeling confused but not yet overly concerned. She held the belief that something must be delaying him. Five minutes passed. Then another ten more with still no sign of him. She was giving serious consideration to getting out of bed when she at last heard him begin the accent upwards. 

Repositioning herself, she again pretended to be asleep but the footsteps didn’t stop outside the bedroom door as expected. Without even the slightest hesitation, Peter bypassed their bedroom altogether and instead continued down the hallway to the bathroom where she recognized the sound of the shower being turned on. 

Left feeling slightly stunned and more confused than ever, Elizabeth sat up in bed switching on the table lamp next to her. From her husband’s behavior, Elizabeth could only draw one conclusion. He was avoiding her. And instantly Elizabeth knew something bad had happened today, and this was her husband’s way of coping with it. Avoidance of serious emotional discussions were by all means Peter’s MO. 

Closing her eyes, Elizabeth took a moment to reign in thoughts that threatened to take her down some horrific roads. She didn’t yet know what had happened and to let her imagination run wild would be counterproductive. A deep breath in and out somewhat cleared her mind and at least had her staying in place instead of marching straight down to the bathroom to confront him. To pressure him into talking before he was ready would be the worst course of action for her to take. Past experience had assured her as much. 

Still, Elizabeth’s patience was not limitless and after nearly twenty minutes of listening to running water, she was reconsidering her decision to remain in the bedroom. Just as her anxiety neared rampant stage, she at last heard the water stop followed by the opening of the bathroom door. 

Once again she listened carefully to his footsteps and to her immense relief she saw the shadow of his presence halt outside the door, but that’s where her relief ended because the man standing in the doorway was not one she recognized. This man before her certainly was not the likes of her normally confident, self-assured husband. This man looked physically exhausted and emotionally troubled by something weighing heavily on his mind. He was completely off kilter trying to give her a poorly disguised fake smile as he stood awkwardly in the doorway, appearing to be undecided on whether to come closer or leave the room altogether. No, this man was no one she had seen before.

“What happened?” Elizabeth asked once it was clear Peter wasn’t going to initiate a conversation. 

“Nothing,” Peter answered after the slightest of hesitation and she could tell he immediately regretted the lie. 

“Don’t,” she said, her voice sounding a bit harder than she would have liked, but his lie had caught her off guard. She waited for him to apologize or correct his error but Peter shifted nervously before her without saying a word and she didn’t try to hide her disappointment. “Don’t you dare try to protect me. That’s not who we are at least it hasn’t been before now.” 

His eyes still didn’t meet hers when he nodded and said softly, “You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“You’ve had a shitty day,” Elizabeth ventured trying to get him to open up. Normally, he would have already crawled into bed with her and given her a full report. His overall silence regarding the subject of his day was really beginning to scare her. 

Peter laughed bitterly at the understatement. “You could say that.”

Again her husband fell silent, and Elizabeth sat up straighter suddenly having a bad thought. “Did someone get hurt? Neal…?”

“No…yes…well…” Peter stopped, gathered himself and then tried again. “My subject shot himself.”

Elizabeth inhaled quickly. While bad, the death of his case subject didn’t fully explain the obvious struggle Peter was having with himself. There had to be more to it. “But the team is okay? And Neal—he’s okay?”

A strange look crossed her husband’s face, one she didn’t recognize or understand. She held her breath until he shook his head and answered, “The team is fine. Neal—Neal’s okay.”

Relieved, Elizabeth released her breath. “Jesus, Peter, will you just talk to me already!”

“I fucked up, El!” Peter said, his voice low but with an edge. “Neal nearly got shot and I-I almost…if it wasn’t for Jones, I-”

“What, Peter? What did you almost do?” Elizabeth didn’t like the guilty look suddenly on her husband’s face.

Reluctantly, Peter met her imploring gaze and as he answered, the crack she heard in his voice threatened to steal her own barely contained composure. “I-I broke my promise…my promise to you,” he clarified. She could see the effort it took for him to maintain eye contact with her. 

Clearly riddled by both guilt and the pain of disappointing her, his brown eyes drifted down and away causing Elizabeth to swallow back the lump in her throat at seeing how broken her husband appeared. She patted the bed, encouraging him to join her and with only a breath of hesitation, he closed the gap between them and slid into bed next to her. Immediately, Elizabeth moved in closer granting him her strength and warmth, melding her body into his. She encouraged reluctant arms to wrap around her, and waited to feel his body release some of it’s tension. 

“Okay,” she said once his breathing had slowed. “Let’s try this again. Tell me what happened.”

Thankfully, this time Peter gave up his resistance and recapped the entire event, leaving no detail out. Patiently Elizabeth listened noting the monotone, flat voice her husband used as he spoke. It was obvious to her he was distancing himself from the event; his subconscious recognizing it was the only way he would ever be able to get through it. And for his sake, Elizabeth forced herself to remain still and not interrupt even as he recounted how the subject had pulled a gun and how he tried to get to Neal only to be pulled back on his ass by Jones and held there. She listened her eyes widening as he told her of how helpless he felt watching the VP point the gun at Neal and his inability to look away as he pulled the trigger. With a need for closeness overwhelmed her, Elizabeth snuggled up more, pulling him tighter against her body.

“I’m sorry, Hon,” Peter said hanging his head. “I know I let you down.”

His body once again stiffened as the tension returned in full force and she felt both sad and angry. However, neither emotion would help her husband so she pulled out from under him and stood up. At his confused look, she ordered him not to move and then left the room. And when she returned a few minutes later, the picture he presented floored her. Peter had moved to sit at the end of the bed, elbows on his knees with one hand running through his hair as his head hung down. She had never seen him looking so…defeated. 

Briskly, she stepped forward and held out a glass to him. “Drink,” she said practically forcing it into his hand. With a look of gratitude and a shaky hand, he raised the glass and took one long sip. Closing his eyes, he relished in the harsh burn of the whiskey and felt it help anchor him back to the present. 

“Better?” Elizabeth asked and was rewarded with a weak smile and nod. “So this is how things are going to go. We’ll address the elephant in the room in a minute. First we’re going to get your head back on straight regarding this so called failure of yours.” When he started to protest, she gave him a steely look that had him wisely closing his mouth. 

“First off, I shouldn’t have to remind you that the important thing here is that you, your team, and Neal are all safe. Yeah, your suspect killed himself but you shouldn’t give a flying fuck about him. His own choices landed him in the position he was in and there wasn’t a damn thing you could have done to change the outcome.”

“I could have had SWAT-” Peter interjected.

With a raised eyebrow, Elizabeth asked, “Based on what? Peter, when have you ever needed that kind of back up on a mortgage fraud case? It would have been a complete waste of resources and you know it.”

“That’s what Hughes said,” Peter mumbled. “But if I had just taken more time to investigate-”

Again she cut him off. “Peter, you can’t spend endless amounts of time on every case. You do your due diligence and you move on to the next one because for every one you close there’s ten more waiting in the wings to be investigated. 

Ruefully, Peter responded, “Hughes said that too.”

While grateful Hughes had spoken to her husband, clearly his words had no effect on him or Peter wouldn’t still be second-guessing himself. “Did he suspend you?” Elizabeth said, deciding to change tactics.

Peter’s head snapped up. “No.”

Now that she had his full attention, she pressed her point, “Why not, if you fucked up so bad” When Peter shrugged, she pressed on. “I’ll tell you why. Hughes recognizes that you are his best agent but also understands that you, Peter Burke, are not God damn perfect!” 

By the frown on his face, Elizabeth knew she still wasn’t getting through to him. Feeling her emotions threatening to take control, Elizabeth took the whiskey from his hand and took her own fortifying sip before returning it back to him. With a challenging look, she said, “If Diana or Jones or Blake had been leading the take down, you would have been the first one to assure them that they had done nothing wrong and that sometimes bad shit just happens.”

When she received no response, Elizabeth lowered her voice as she asked, “Would you be beating yourself up like this if Neal hadn’t been caught in the crossfire?” 

“Probably not,” was his strained, but honest answer.

Encouraged that Peter was at least willing to admit that his feelings for Neal were the root cause behind his current distress, Elizabeth decided it was time to lay the cards on the table. “You know he’s kind of like family now, Peter.”

“When did that happen?” Peter asked shifting to face her, wrinkled brow showing his confusion. 

She smiled the knowing wife smile that she all too often gave him since Neal had entered their lives. “When you adopted his wayward ass and brought him home.”

Peter snorted, “I seem to recall it was you who let him in!” 

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and challenged his words. “I only opened the door.”

It took him a moment, but her smart although sometimes slow on the uptake husband finally got it. “I was the one to bring him into our lives.” 

Elizabeth smiled, “Which brings us back to the elephant in the room.” When Peter looked down at the whiskey glass, she reached out and lifted his chin until his eyes found hers. “You broke your promise to me or at least the spirit of that promise.” 

Soft brown eyes stared back at her as he nodded. Knowing he was on the verge of apologizing again, she put a finger to his lips. “Don’t. Peter, you were in a no-win situation…not that you probably gave it much thought at the time. Knowing you like I do, I suspect when you saw Neal in danger you reacted without a second thought to me or your own safety. Sound about right?” The guilt that crossed his face was the answer she had expected.

“So obviously we’re going to have to renegotiate terms, aren’t we? Since it’s not just about you and me anymore, I can’t hold you to the same accountability, can I?”

“Really?” Peter asked, not quite believing the direction of the conversation but grateful that she understood the conflict he was under when it came to Neal even if he didn’t understand it himself. Elizabeth had accepted that the young man was part of their family something, he had been reluctant to admit.

Feeling confident their talk had alleviated the majority of Peter’s stress, Elizabeth thought it high time to call it a night. “We’ll work the details out tomorrow,” she reassured him. “Right now, you’re exhausted and need to get some sleep.” 

Rounding her side of the bed, she stopped from getting in when she noticed Peter had not moved at all, his body once again showing signs of defeat. She sighed and took in a deep breath. Then she returned to her husband and kneeled down in front of him. “What else?” 

Peter frowned and Elizabeth patiently waited him out. Finally, he said, “Neal’s actions or lack of actions or maybe more like my actions-” Peter paused knowing he was rambling again. He took a breath and was able to put words to what had been weighing on his mind. “The entire team was put at risk today.”

Frowning, Elizabeth thought back to the strange look that had crossed Peter’s face when she had asked earlier about the team and then singularly about Neal. Now she understood that to her husband, Neal was part of the team and not a separate entity. “And you’re concerned how Diana, Jones, and Blake will react. You think that they won’t accept him as a true member of the team.” 

Peter nodded and not for the first time was grateful he had married such a brilliant woman. “It’s only been a month and him freezing like that jeopardized the team. Not that today was Neal’s fault. It’s completely mine. He’s not a trained agent and no one should expect him to act or react like one.”

“So how are you going to fix this?” Elizabeth asked hearing the return of guilt in her husband’s words. Judging by his expression, she knew she had just asked the million dollar question that Peter had no answer for. And it went a long way to explaining why today’s events had thrown him off his game and left him filled with so much self-doubt.

With a sigh, he admitted being at a loss. “That’s the problem. I don’t know what to do, but I have to consider what’s best for the team as a whole.”

“Meaning?” Elizabeth asked knowing she wasn’t going to like his answer.

“Meaning, if the team sees Neal as a liability rather than the tremendous asset I know he can be, I’ll have to end Neal’s deal and he’ll probably go back to prison.” 

Elizabeth didn’t immediately respond. His concerns were valid, but she also knew he had one hell of a team supporting him and he seemed to need a reminder of that. “You have a good team, Peter. Talk to them. Give them a chance. They may surprise you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was longer than expected and may still need a little editing. Next up, I'm going to try writing a chapter from Neal's POV.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal glanced down at his cell phone. It was both silent and dark. No calls. No texts. Why had he even gotten his hopes up? No one was going to call. No one wanted to talk to him right now. Though he wished things were different, he wasn’t part of their team. He was their asset, someone only to be used to assist in solving cases.

When Peter had insisted upon driving him home, Neal had expected some difficulty with his handler but with a smile planted on his face, Neal had assured Peter he was fine and insisted the man go home to his wife. He had thought it a testament to just how effected Peter was himself by the incident when the agent had failed to detect the slight shaking of Neal’s hand when it reached for the door handle or his hesitation in getting out of the car. It became even more apparent when Peter had then driven off without a word, never questioning why Neal had remained standing on the sidewalk, making absolutely no move to go inside. Only after the red taillights had faded from view had Neal finally turned away from the street and entered the mansion.

Now safely in his apartment, Neal sat mostly in the dark with the merest of light shining in from the terrace; an open bottle and half full wine glass his only company and for that he had mixed feelings. While he needed some time to think and to process all that had happened as well as why he had reacted as he had, Neal wasn’t convinced he necessarily wanted to take on this deep introspection by his lonesome knowing it was likely one of those situations no good would come from it. 

Neal briefly considered calling Mozzie but immediately discarded the idea. This was the one area he could not count on his friend who had already went on record with his disapproval of Neal’s deal with the feds. If Neal disclosed what had happened—nearly happened—today, Mozzie would be up in arms pointing out that in just one month, Neal’s life had been placed in jeopardy more times than in all the years they had been running cons together. And in that regard, Neal would have no argument to make. He most certainly was not used to having so many guns pointed at him!

In the end, Mozzie would use today’s events as another justification for why Neal needed to literally cut ties and run. And right now, Neal couldn’t afford to hear that from his friend. Not when he was so full of doubt: doubt about himself and his ability to work with the White Collar team. No, today of all days, he couldn’t have Mozzie tempting him to run. In his current state, he might not be strong enough to say no. 

Taking a sip of wine, Neal wished the mansion hadn’t been dark and quiet when he had entered. He was certain June would have allowed Neal to talk without interruption and more importantly, without passing judgment. She had lived a similar lifestyle when her husband, Byron, had been alive and had managed to find that balance of knowing when to offer opinion and when to simply nod and listen. Yes, her company would have been most welcome but Neal refused to wake her. She had already been too generous and kind for him to lay his burdens down at her feet on this night. 

Neal glanced down at his cell phone. It was both silent and dark. No calls. No texts. Neal shifted back in his chair, and closed his eyes. Why had he even gotten his hopes up? No one was going to call. No one wanted to talk to him right now. Though he wished things were different, he wasn’t part of their team. He was their asset, someone only to be used to assist in solving cases.

Neal drained his glass. Everyone else had done their jobs today except him. He was the sole fuck up. He had nearly gotten himself killed and in doing so had placed everyone around him in jeopardy. Yeah, some asset he was turning out to be. With his eyes once again drifting towards the phone, Neal shook his head and reminded himself that he was a criminal and could never be anything more than that. To even think he could be part of something as special as what Peter had with his team…well, it was absurd and a waste of time. 

With a bout of restless energy, Neal hopped to his feet and began pacing, running both hands through his hair. It had just occurred to him that this wasn’t even the first time he had messed things up for the team. He had been so cocky when he had proposed the deal to Peter, thinking he was the best of the best and taking down White Collar criminals would be a breeze. He remembered thinking how easily he would charm his way into the unit and dazzle Peter and his agents with his sparkling smile, keen intellect, and ability to think outside the box. 

Right out of the gate, Neal had overestimated his own abilities or underestimated Hagen’s depending on your point of view. A gun had been pointed at him in that case too, now that he thought about it, but he had not stood frozen then. He had acted and in the end, he had managed to salvage the situation and by doing so had his deal with Peter ‘made permanent’ but how permanent could it be if he kept fucking up leaving Peter and his team to clean up after him? 

His mind refocused on the current case where things had gone much, much differently. This time Neal hadn’t been so lucky and hadn’t managed to salvage the situation at all. If he was being honest with himself (and this was something Neal was loathed to do), he had brought nothing to the table today and in fact had been a liability. The suspect had died and he had done nothing to prevent it and because the team was so focused on saving his ass, they hadn’t been able to take action either. 

Shit, shit, shit! He couldn’t do this. He didn’t know what he had even been thinking or for that matter what the fuck Peter had been thinking. He was a screw up, a con man, not someone to be trusted and certainly not one to be relied upon! No matter how hard he tried, he would never be who they wanted him to be.

Neal laughed bitterly as his mind continued to spiral completely out of control. Now thinking back to earlier, he had a different take on Peter’s actions in the car. First off, Peter had only driven him home out of some Boy Scout sense of duty and obligation. He most certainly had not missed Neal’s shaking hand or his hesitation to get out of the car…no, he simply hadn’t cared. He was done with Neal. It was clear as day. 

And Diane, who had been so furious with him earlier, well she certainly wasn’t going to be sad to see him go because she had seen through the con Neal, himself, hadn’t even known he was running and in doing so, she had seen the truth. She had come to realize that no matter what her boss had been hoping, Neal would never be a part of their team and probably couldn’t even fathom why Peter had nearly put himself in harms’ way to save the life of a criminal like Neal, and now that he was thinking about it, Neal couldn’t either!

Continuing his pacing, Neal knew it was just a matter of time before Peter would recognize the truth for himself and revoke the deal. Neal’s actions today had left him no choice. Almost subconsciously, Neal stared over at the door as if Peter was already on the other side, fist raised to pound out his presence and intentions. 

Fixated on the knob, sweat poured off Neal’s forehead and rolled down into his eyes, the sting forcing him to blink. His breathing picked up until he was almost hyperventilating as he watched that one spot. More sweat rolled down leaving him to rub his eyes in an effort to clear them. When he was able to focus again, he was almost disappointed that Peter still wasn’t on the other side, hands assaulting the door, demanding he open up. 

Neal reigned in his breathing but returned to his pacing as he tried to figure out what to do. After a few turns, Neal stopped dead in his tracks. Maybe Mozzie was right. Maybe he should just cut his losses and run. His shoulders slumped. Running was pointless since Peter would just find him again. Unless—and what he was thinking caused Neal to hang his head. Yes, Peter would always find him, but only if he bothered to look. Now knowing what a fuck up he was, Peter would probably consider him not even worthy of his time and effort. 

But that didn’t explain why Peter wasn’t breaking down his door to put him back in prison or maybe it did. By now, Peter was home likely already in bed with Elizabeth telling her all about his day because Neal knew the couple had no secrets from one another. He could picture the tranquil scene of husband and wife cuddled together under the covers, Satchmo lying on his doggie bed in the corner, tail wagging slightly as he listened to his master’s voice. 

Bitterness overtook Neal as he remembered that first morning at June’s when Peter had come to pick him up. Peter had told Neal that his lifestyle had earned him certain things and not cappuccinos in the clouds. Neal hadn’t said anything then, but it wasn’t Italian roast or a million dollar view of Manhattan that Neal was seeking. He wanted what Peter had; a simple place to call home with his own wife and dog waiting for him there. 

Reflecting on that now, Neal realized he could never have his white picket fence family. Peter had worked hard and had in fact earned his all American dream while Neal had spent half a lifetime running schemes and taking what did not belong to him, taking things not earned. He had even tried to do the same with his handler and his family, to take from them things not earned or deserved. Things like their trust and their friendship. The Burkes were good people, and he knew they deserved better than to be saddled with the likes of him, a person unrepentant about his past and destined to repeat his mistakes over and over again. 

Knowing he was destined to return to prison the next day, Neal almost felt relieved. It meant he wouldn’t have to keep up the charade any longer nor would the team. Everyone could go back to the way things were before a felon was dropped into their midst. For Neal, the hard part wasn’t going to be giving up his freedom; it was facing everyone the next day and seeing the look of disappointment on Peter’s face, Diane’s contempt, and Jones’ indifference unless he could come up with a way around it.

After a moment of thought, he knew he had to be proactive and Hughes was the key. All he had to do was arrive early before anyone else on the team, pick the lock to Hughes’ office, and wait inside for the senior agent to arrive. No doubt Hughes would level him with one of his steely glares, but he knew there would be no attempts to talk Neal out of his decision to return to prison. Hughes had made it abundantly clear that he did not share in Peter’s belief that the young man could be an asset. Neal was confident that once he made his wishes known, Hughes would simply pick up the phone and place the call to the US Marshals. 

Now with a solid plan in place, Neal felt all remaining energy drain from his body, both physically and emotionally spent. With a deep breath in and deep breath out, Neal closed his eyes. Come tomorrow it would all be over and he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone counting on him for anything anymore. 

Opening his eyes, Neal picked up the wine bottle and estimated there were two glasses remaining and he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his last night of freedom than drinking wine while waiting for the sun to rise. 

As Neal was about to take a sip, he heard footsteps outside of his apartment. Then there was a pounding at his door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long but I had 3/4 of the chapter done when I realized what I was writing would actually work best as it's own story. That left me back at square one. And I'm super nervous posting this chapter. Again I never feel like I have a good grasp of Neal's character so please feel free to drop me a line and let me know if I'm completely off base with my portrayal of Neal in this chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal has a totally unexpected visitor at the loft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The muse ran a muck and showed absolutely no self-restraint. Therefore what was supposed to be one chapter grew too long and had to be divided into 2. He's part one. Part two should be posted by tomorrow evening with hopefully the final chapter by the weekend.

With a mixture of dread and relief, Neal approached the door. As he began to turn the handle he said, “Peter, I know why you’re here-” 

Neal stopped. That wasn’t Peter standing on the other side with cuffs in hand to take him into custody as Neal had been expecting. Instead, a cheerful Blake strolled right past him apparently deeming the open door enough of an invitation to enter. 

“Come on in,” Neal muttered somewhat sarcastically, which was either missed or ignored by the junior agent. 

“I brought beer,” Blake indicated by raising the hand holding the paper sack, “and pizza.” 

“I’m not really hungry,” Neal responded watching in disbelief as Blake made himself right at home in the loft’s kitchenette area setting the pizza and beer on the table. 

Standing at the opposite end of the table, Neal didn’t say a word as Blake took the beer from the sack leaving two bottles out while placing the remainder inside the refrigerator. And Neal didn’t object or offer any form of assistance when Blake started rummaging through his cabinets and drawers for plates and a bottle opener. He did manage to raise an eyebrow when Blake popped the tops off of both bottles and slid one in Neal’s direction. Neal had never been much of a beer drinker. 

“Too bad,” Blake said, eagerly grabbing a slice of pizza and pulling until the cheese hanging onto the pie stretched to the max and snapped back into the box. “It’s from Vincenzo’s.” 

Neal’s eyes automatically gravitated to the pizza box confirming its origin. “Vincenzo’s has the best pizza in all of New York City.” 

Taking a large bite, Blake nodded in agreement. “I know.”

The enticing smell compelled Neal to lean across the table to grab the pizza box and open the flimsy cardboard lid. “Spinach and pineapple?” 

Blake only shrugged in response and continued chewing leaving Neal to wonder how the agent knew those were his favorite pizza toppings.

“Vincenzo’s is outside my radius,” Neal said narrowing his eyes at Blake. He was also aware that the pizzeria was clear on the other side of the city and not conveniently located for Blake to have simply picked up on his way. 

“I know,” he repeated. Then the young agent’s expression turned sheepish. “I guess you could say while chasing you we learned more than just your shoe size and what time you got up in the morning.” 

That may have explained the pizza, but for Neal everything still added up to this not being a random social call. No, Blake’s visit had been planned with a specific purpose in mind. Ignoring the insistent growling of his stomach, Neal studied his visitor and came to the conclusion the agent wasn’t nearly as happy and easy-going as he was making himself out to be. All this led to warning bells sounding off inside his head about the nature of this visit. “Why are you here?”

Shifting under Neal’s scrutiny, Blake attempted to maintain his carefree attitude. Taking another bite, he pointed to the terrace. “There’s been so much talk about your million dollar view, I wanted to see it for myself and since I was in the neighborhood-”

“Peter sent you,” Neal accused cutting straight through the bullshit having neither the patience nor fortitude for games. It was late into the night and Neal knew Blake didn’t live anywhere near Riverside Drive. If he was ‘in the neighborhood’, Neal could only reason it was specifically to see him. 

Continuing to stare him down, Neal watched Blake fidget even more which only confirmed his suspicion about the young agent’s presence. Peter had sent him and was still planning to revoke the deal. But knowing the federal government, Neal suspected a forest-killing amount of paperwork was involved in sending him back to prison and Peter likely needed more time. Naturally, the smart senior agent wouldn’t trust Neal not to run so he had sent Blake, the last person Neal would feel threatened by to babysit him until everything was settled and Peter was ready to make the arrest. 

Blake felt increasingly awkward standing in front of Neal. Picking up on Neal’s increased suspicion this was not at all going as he had hoped. “No one sent me,” he finally said, disputing the conclusion Neal had drawn.

Neal didn’t believe him. If not ordered by Peter, Neal had no explanation for why the junior agent would have come to his apartment. He shifted his weight against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. He wanted Blake to know he was prepared to wait for as long as necessary to get to the truth.

Seeing the mistrust in Neal’s focused gaze, Blake put down the pizza slice and picked up his beer. Taking a long, slow pull from the bottle, he bought himself some time to think, to come up with some type a response. No one, including Agent Burke, had asked him to come. In fact when Blake had left the office, the senior agent had been providing a briefing to Agent Hughes and both Diana and Jones had still been typing up their reports. He didn’t think anyone had even noticed his departure.

Observing Neal’s defensive posture, Blake couldn’t hide his own disappointment. He had hoped to bide his time and look for an appropriate opening before revealing the true nature of his visit. Blake had wanted to ease his way into a conversation by testing the waters first to see if Neal had processed and dealt with the disastrous ending to their operation. If Neal had already made peace and moved on, Blake didn’t want to open a fresh wound despite needing someone to talk to, someone who had experienced the same event and was possibly struggling the same way he was with it.

The determined look on Neal’s face was evident and caused Blake to look away. He probably should have known he couldn’t con a con man. And unlike Agent Burke, Blake had never been able to read Neal so he wasn’t exactly certain what he was thinking at the moment. Ever since he had entered the apartment, Neal had kept his cards close to his vest, his emotions mostly in check, and his thoughts guarded leaving Blake unable to obtain any type of gauge on him. If Neal was still struggling to deal with the failed takedown, he wasn’t showing it now that he had some time and distance from the event.

Certainly earlier in the day, the same couldn’t have been said. Neal had displayed clear signs of being shook up by his encounter with their subject. Blake had watched with concern as Neal had laid on the floor, his breath coming in sharp and shallow bursts fearing that the young man was going into some form of shock. That had all changed the moment Agent Burke had reached Neal’s side. 

Blake had known the pair had a connection but had almost been embarrassed to witness the almost intimate handling of Neal by the senior agent. With nothing more than a hand on his chest and a few calming words, Neal’s body visibly relaxed and his breathing returned to a more steady and natural state. Then both men had remained sitting on the floor, shoulders touching, neither speaking while the other agents went about securing the scene around them. Blake had never seen Agent Burke so…still.

Initially, Blake had been relieved the operation was over, recognizing that nobody other than their subject had been hurt. Unfortunately that feeling of peace had been short-lived and soon replaced by a sense of guilt so strong that it had sunk its teeth deep into Blake’s conscience. The fact that Neal was physically okay and not lying on a hospital bed or worse yet lying…Blake stopped, unable to finish the thought. Instead, he acknowledged Neal had been lucky. They had all been lucky but the FBI weren’t supposed to rely on luck or chance. They were a team trained to look out for one another. Neal was part of that team now and Blake should have done more to protect him. In his mind, he had failed Neal. It was as simple as that.

Risking a glance at Neal, the young con man was still closed off, his mask locked into place. “No one sent me, Neal,” Blake said again.

“Then why are you here?” Neal pressed, his voice portraying his agitation.

With downcast eyes and slumped shoulders, Blake didn’t immediately answer now trying to work out whether it was better to stay or go. Blake had thought the pizza and beer would have been enough to put off any serious discussions but Neal had obviously seen through his charade and was now calling him out on it and he wasn’t going to let it go.

Across from him, Neal remained patiently silent allowing the empty space to add to Blake’s discomfort. It was an interrogation tactic Blake had witnessed Agent Burke use successfully time and time again, but Blake had never realized just how much pressure it put on a person until being on the receiving end of it like he was now. 

“This was a mistake. I should go,” Blake said finally coming to a decision. Quickly finishing off his beer, he put down the bottle down and turned to leave.

“Wait!” 

Neal reached out and grabbed the agent’s arm preventing his movement to the door. Having watched Blake during the silence, he had witnessed a myriad of emotion cross his face. So far he had not read any hostility from Blake and in fact had sensed the opposite as if the young agent was troubled. It had Neal questioning if there wasn’t some other motive for his visit. And though he hated to admit it, Neal found himself loath to be alone if this was indeed his last night of freedom. The thought of spending the next four years in protective custody in isolation from other inmates, both for his safety and to guard against his chances of escape, was not something Neal was looking forward to. 

Thankfully Blake heeded his command and stopped, but the young agent made no move to turn around and face Neal. And it seemed an eternity before Blake actually spoke but when he did, Neal forgot all about the possibility of going to prison so entranced was he by the rawness and blatant emotion in the junior agent’s voice as he made his confession.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Neal continue their conversation.

“Despite what you’re thinking Agent Burke didn’t send me, doesn’t even know I’m here. No one knows I’m here…but I needed--” Blake stopped. This would be so much easier if he could get a read on Neal and know if the young man was as bothered by today as he was. Closing his eyes, Blake settled himself and decided to just be honest. “Today was bad, Neal. Really, really bad.” 

Blake took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled before finally turning around to face Neal. “That’s not the way our cases go. Our subjects are smart, non-violent criminals, not the gun-toting type. And-and they’re supposed to end up in cuffs not body bags! I know why he thought he had no way out, but it still seems like such a waste and just…I don’t know…wrong.” 

Silently Neal agreed surprised that Blake had hit on what had made Neal freeze up in the first place. They had all known their subject’s background prior to entering the office. How he had been a family man, married with two kids still in school. He had been an educated man, having earned a bachelor’s from NYU followed by a master’s in Business Administration from Fordham University, the same university three generations from his family had attended. 

By all accounts, the subject had been a hard-working man. And despite it being a family run business, nothing had been handed to him. Starting off as a loan officer, he had steadily worked his way up to his current Vice President position. He had been good at his job and even the person making the initial complaint to the FBI had otherwise spoken favorably.

A record check had been negative for any past criminal record, not even as much as a traffic infraction. Though the embezzlement and mortgage fraud were serious felony charges, Neal knew their subject’s lack of priors ensured a light prison sentence if not straight probation if he cooperated and agreed to pay restitution. 

Knowing all this as he and the team were preparing to enter the office, Neal had a clear image of how the next moments would proceed. The man while appearing shameful and embarrassed would voluntarily hold out his hands, slightly shaking while cuffs were clinked into place. So regretful and guilt-ridden over his crimes, in the end he would need to be half dragged out of the office because his feet simply would fail to move. And as he was being led away, he would mutter apologies for the pain he was causing his family. 

All in all, it would be a peaceful, uneventful surrender…or so Neal had naively thought. In reality, the second Peter had announced he was under arrest the presumably mild-mannered VP had turned into a gun waving lunatic, a man seemingly without any thought or care to the consequences of his actions. His desperation had been conveyed in the wild look in his eyes and in the spittle projected from his obscenity spewing mouth. And Neal had simply froze, unable to move so caught up in thinking how utterly crazy it all was and how none of it seemed worth killing or dying for. 

Yet a gun had been leveled at him, a trigger pressed. An instant later he had been dragged away and held down on the floor by Diana. He hadn’t witnessed the actual suicide, only heard the bang echo about the room followed closely by the thud of a body hitting the floor. And Neal had a vague memory of sinking further to the ground stunned by what had just occurred and thinking it was all such an unnecessary waste. 

A hitch in Blake’s breath drew Neal back to the present where the young agent was now pacing before him. 

“I know that still doesn’t explain why I came here.” Blake said, as he stopped long enough to pick up the beer he had originally opened for Neal and took a quick swallow. Then Blake fell silent and began picking at the label on the bottle clearly needing to do something with his hands.

“We all react differently,” Blake said quietly.

Caught off guard by Blake’s solemn demeanor and the seemingly sudden change in topic, Neal held his tongue, wary of where Blake was taking the conversation. Thus far the junior agent had been expressing some of the same thoughts and issues Neal had been fighting with and it had him feeling on edge if not slightly exposed.

“Take Diana for example,” Blake continued. “She’s normally very cool and calm but as you saw today if provoked, she doesn’t hold anything back. She’s very physical as well as vocal with her emotions but once she expresses herself, it’s like she’s washed clean of her feelings and able to move forward without any problem.”

“Jones is the exact opposite, almost stoic in his response.” Blake’s voice dropped to a near whisper, forcing Neal to lean in closer. “He never talks about his time in the military but I think he saw some… stuff and on days like today, he becomes almost numb. I guess it’s how he protects himself, you know?”

Since Blake was focused on the beer bottle, he didn’t see Neal nod in agreement. As he scraped at the label, he said, “I envy their ability to deal with a situation and put it behind them like they do. It’s never been that easy for me.”

“So the pizza and beer…?” Neal prodded, needing to hear Blake say it, to say the real reason behind his showing up at Neal’s doorstep. It was becoming increasing clear the young agent needed something, something he thought Neal could give him. And by giving it, Neal thought there was at least a chance he might receive his own brand of absolution. 

“Pure bribery on my part. I was hoping it would at least get me through your door,” Blake confessed finally looking up at Neal. “The simple truth is I didn’t want to go home to an empty apartment, and I guess I thought that maybe you wouldn’t want to be alone either. Like I said we all react differently, and I thought-hoped really-that like me you might need to talk it through. It was stupid and-”

“It wasn’t stupid,” Neal quickly reassured him though he was reeling a little from the agent’s admission and the vulnerability he was willing to express with him, a criminal and a con man he had known for only a month.

It forced Neal to consider things he had not previously thought about. Not once had he really took the time to consider what effects if any their subject’s suicide would have on the agents instead assuming their professional training would counter any emotions that threatened to take hold to unnerve them. Glancing at Blake, Neal could see his assumption couldn’t have been further from the truth. The man before him was clearly carrying a heavy burden that was weighing deeply on his shoulders.

“What happened today wasn’t your fault.”

Blake’s eyes slowly rose again to meet Neal’s, and the con man could see the enormous guilt reflected within the agent’s green eyes. “I was the one closest to you.”

“But-”

“No ‘buts’,” Blake insisted, an intent look now on his face. “We’re a team, Neal, and we have a responsibility to look out for one another. I should have protected you.” 

“But I froze and put you and everyone else at risk.” Neal hadn’t meant to actually say the words out loud, but he couldn’t seem to remain silent with Blake standing in front of him trying to take the blame and absolve Neal from any responsibility. 

“You’re not a trained agent,” Blake said, continuing to make excuses for Neal.

“I’m an asset,” Neal returned, his voice slightly agitated. “I’m supposed to help you solve cases not become part of one!”

“You’re a consultant and a member of our team.” Blake instantly countered. “Do you know what that means, Neal? You don’t always have to be on your A game and you don’t have to carry a burden all on your own. You have others to help share the load.”

Not wanting to dive too deeply into what all Blake was implying Neal did one of the things he was good at and deflected. “By that logic shouldn’t you stop being so hard on yourself?”

Blake shrugged and gave in to a slight upturn of his lips as he responded, “Maybe that’s something we both need to work on.” 

That comment garnered a wry smile from Neal. “Maybe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 and the conclusion of Blake and Neal's conversation will be posted today as well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conclusion of Blake and Neal's conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I posted both Chapters 5 and 6 today.

Turning sober, Blake sighed. “Do you know who’s even worse than the two of us?” Neal shook his head. “Agent Burke. He takes days like today very personal. You know when I left he was still in Hughes’ office.”

Frowning, Neal said, “Hughes’ office? I thought Peter went home after dropping me off.”

“Really?” Blake’s voice betrayed his surprise and the look he gave Neal told the con man how off target and naive he had been. “Our suspect died, Neal! There has to be an immediate accounting for that. Agent Burke, as the lead agent, would be the one responsible for briefing the ASAC. By the looks of things Agent Burke wasn’t going home anytime soon and knowing him he was probably in there falling on his sword.” 

Neal’s frown deepened as concern for Peter began to take form. “What exactly do you mean by ‘falling on his sword’?”

Blake held Neal’s gaze. “I’m sure Agent Hughes demanded answers for why our suspect ended up dead and not in custody. I’m equally confident Agent Burke accepted full responsibility for that.” 

Seeing the wheels starting to turn in Neal’s mind, Blake attempted to settle him down. “Don’t worry. Agent Hughes might look like--well okay pretty much is--a curmudgeon but he’s not a man without reason. He’ll know this was beyond Agent Burke’s control.” Blake winced, “Actually, he’ll probably spend a lot of time trying to convince Agent Burke of that.”

“What happened wasn’t Peter’s fault,” Neal argued, his concern for Peter ramping up even more. 

“And I’m saying Agent Burke would disagree,” Blake said with a pointed look. “If you asked him he’d tell you as the senior agent success or failure falls on him and him alone.”

“That’s a bit extreme!” Neal exclaimed. 

Blake chuckled. “Good luck telling him that! You may not have noticed but Agent Burke’s a bit of a control freak.”

“But he couldn’t have predicted what was going to happen. He can’t hold himself accountable for something so beyond his control,” Neal insisted, but even as he said it, he knew Blake was right about Peter. All Neal had to do was think back to when they had been sitting side by side on the floor, to that moment when Neal had tried to apologize. Rather than accept that Neal was at fault, Peter had taken full responsibility. This is on me, Peter had said. And in those honest, sorrowful brown eyes, Neal knew Peter had meant it.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Agent Burke is also a bit of a perfectionist. Members of the team can make their share of mistakes as long as we take ownership and learn from them, but Agent Burke holds himself to a much higher, nearly impossible standard.”

Neal had in fact noticed this about Peter. And now Neal felt a little guilty himself. All evening he had assumed the man was so upset and disappointed with Neal that he wanted to return him to prison. Neal had mistakenly believed that with this deal came no real margin for error. He either produced results or else. Given what Blake had just revealed, it was more likely that Peter was closed off because he was beating himself up over the failed operation, and equally likely Peter hadn’t picked up on Neal’s earlier anxious state because he was too preoccupied with thoughts of how he had failed Neal.

Silently sipping his beer, Blake caught the moment Neal’s mask slipped and he saw a flash of guilt and then a longer expression of something that surprised Blake--relief. It was relief he saw reflecting in the bottomless blue pool of Neal’s eyes. And although just like that, it was gone the mask slipping back in place, Blake had seen enough to have a moment of insight into Neal’s thoughts. “Neal, when I got here. You thought it was Peter at the door. Were you expecting him to--”

“-no…no…of course not,” Neal said quickly, planting his best ‘what are you kidding me?’ smile on his face. His eyes flickered to the door and his heart thudded a little louder despite now understanding his earlier thoughts of Peter arresting him had been a misunderstanding, an overreaction due to his emotional state.

Blake immediately recognized the lie, knowing he had hit the mark squarely on the head. And because of his, albeit unfinished, question, Neal was now looking a bit…squirrelly. Blake realized if he didn’t want to spook Neal any further, he would have to choose his next words carefully. It’s what he thought Agent Burke would do if he was here and had an anxious Neal on his hands.

“You don’t have to worry about it being an arbitrary, heat of the moment decision. Agent Burke’s not like that.” Seeing Neal’s eyes widen, Blake lowered his tone. This was something he had witnessed Agent Burke do on more than one occasion with great effectiveness when handling Neal. “He’ll only do it if he has to, if left with no other option. He’d take no joy in sending you back. In fact, I suspect it’ll hurt him more than you know.” 

Neal attempted to shrug off what he was hearing. It had only been a month and the older agent could not be that invested in him, at least not on such a personal level that he would be pained to put Neal back in prison. Okay, there had been some indications that the man liked him, even respected him in some ways. And maybe Neal had caught an occasional smile from Peter which seemed to express he had done something to make the man proud. But to give Blake’s words serious consideration was dangerous since Neal wanted nothing more than for them to be true.

Continuing to observe Neal, Blake felt like he was starting to see some of what had drawn Agent Burke to the young man in the first place. He was indeed a con man, but one not nearly as confident as he made himself out to be. He had flaws and insecurities especially centering around his relationship with Agent Burke and how the agent perceived him. Blake almost smiled knowing the older agent had the same reservations about Neal’s own perception of him. They were quite the pair. 

Watching as a slight smirk sprouted on Blake’s face, Neal got a hold of his emotions and thoughts. He placed them on lock down to be further explored later, preferably when alone and with a glass of wine. Clearing his throat, he looked to change the subject, but Blake beat him to it by suddenly laughing.

“God he was so right about you.”

“What do you mean?” Neal asked, unsure what to make of Blake’s amusement. 

Briefly, Blake debated whether or not he should even tell Neal but seeing how he knew Neal could use a reprieve from his own head, Blake suspected the story would prove to be a welcomed distraction if not something Neal needed to hear.

“Like I said earlier, Agent Burke doesn’t make any decision without due consideration so when you approached him with your deal, he had to take his time and really think it through and factor in what was best for the team. And once his mind was made up, Agent Burke gathered us all in the conference room-” 

Seeing Neal’s puzzled look, Blake paused to explain Agent Burke’s reasoning. “He recognized that bringing you on board could be a disaster, a career ender if things went sour and it wasn’t something he should just force on an established team. So he gave us all a choice. Anyone who didn’t think they could work with you was free to transfer out to another unit without it reflecting badly on their record. Agent Burke even offered to personally write a recommendation letter on their behalf.”

“Really?” Neal said, clearly surprised having not known any of this. It said a lot about Peter’s character and his leadership. Then it registered what else Blake had just said and naturally Neal wanted to know how many had chosen to leave, had decided they couldn’t work with him having prejudged his character and declined to even give him a chance.

Blake was amused watching Neal knowing what he was thinking. He took mercy and answered his unspoken question. “No one took him up on his offer.”

“Everyone stayed?” Neal asked surprised at first and then allowing a smile to cross his face at the thought they had recognized his usefulness. “Well of course you all knew firsthand about my talents.”

Blake bit his lip and looked a little uncomfortable. “That wasn’t exactly it. Most of us, me included, thought Agent Burke had lost his mind. We even had an office pool on how long until you either ran or was sent back to prison.”

“Who’s winning?” Neal asked, his voice a bit pouty now that his bubble had burst and his ego bruised.

Blake hesitated and then shrugged. “The longest anyone predicted was nineteen days.”

“Then why-” Neal prodded, hoping to salvage at least some of his pride.

Blake looked Neal square in the eye and his voice took on a hint of awe. “He’s Agent Burke! He’s the reason most of us wanted to join the White Collar Unit in the first place! If he thought you were good for the team,” Blake shrugged again and almost sounded apologetic as he said, “then we believed and trusted his judgement.”

“Huh,” was all Neal could think to say. 

“If it helps, you proved him right. In less than week, you had identified the Dutchman and helped put him behind bars. Of course your methods were a bit unorthodox…”

Rebounding with the backhanded compliment, Neal couldn’t help but grin. “I like to think outside the box,” he acknowledged.

“Yeah, we noticed.” Blake snarked as he fished two more beers from the refrigerator, passing one to Neal. “But in all seriousness, I know it’s only been a short time but you’ve already made a difference. You’re forcing us to look at things differently and that’s making us better. The team was good but now with you on it, we have the chance to be something really special!”

“But there’s one big problem,” Neal said. “I’m not actually part of the team.” 

And it pained Neal to say it even if he knew it to be the truth. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, when he had changed but deep down he really did want to be part of something like what Blake was describing. He wanted to part of something greater than himself, but the skeptic in him couldn’t help but doubt his own worthiness.

Blake appeared crestfallen and caught off guard by Neal’s response. “Oh-oh that’s-that’s...really? I thought you enjoyed working with Agent Burke! I mean I knew you wouldn’t consider us friends. And-and you certainly would never hang out with us if not for-” pointing to Neal’s anklet while continuing to ramble, “-your situation, but you really don’t want to be part of the team? You won’t even give us a chance?” 

Neal frowned as he studied Blake who wasn’t bothering to hide his disappointment. The young agent meant what he was saying and was clearly hurt by what he thought was Neal’s rejection. And under Blake’s now mournful expression, Neal found himself wondering if Diane and Jones and the rest of Peter’s team felt the same way. Had he already been accepted, flaws and all? If so, could he find his way in their world. 

“I do enjoy working with Peter and…the team.” Neal admitted. “But as far as the team protecting me--”

Blake looked up, showing signs of hope at Neal’s admission. “We can figure that out tomorrow.”

Neal picked up the pizza box and his beer. “Tomorrow,” he agreed. Then to lighten the mood said, “You know I’ve never met anyone else who likes spinach and pineapple on your pizza. Most people think it’s weird.”

Blake snorted, “It’s not weird, it’s just plain wrong. Fruit should never be on pizza. Next time, expect pepperoni and sausage.” 

Trying not to react, Neal secretly liked the sound of their being a next time even as he leveled a serious look at Blake, “Next time bring wine instead of this swill you and Peter insist upon drinking.”

“Deal,” Blake said with a large grin. Then he put out his beer bottle and waited for Neal to respond in kind, the clinking of their bottles sealing their agreement.

Moving towards the terrace, Neal called over his shoulder. “Still want to see that view?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those reading, thanks for sticking with me. I only have the epilogue left.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake drew in a breath, realizing he didn’t want to remain silent. Not this time. Even if the man didn’t like what Blake had to say, Agent Burke needed to hear him out and Blake could not in good conscience keep his thoughts to himself. And in the end if Agent Burke was the man Blake thought he was, he might even appreciate Blake speaking his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 was supposed to be the conclusion but Blake completely hijacked the muse and demanded one final chapter so he could speak his mind to Peter. If I had known from the beginning he was going to take up over half the story, I would have given the poor man a full name!

Chapter 7 

The following morning…

Peter entered the Federal Building with a lighter heart than when he had left the night before mainly due to the incredible woman he had been wise enough to marry. Over bagels and coffee they had spent the early morning coming up with what they hoped to be a workable solution ensuring Neal was not only included in the team but viewed as a valuable member. As he merged his way into the crowded elevator, he mentally reviewed the game plan. 

Part one consisted of Peter stepping into the office with his typical self-assured attitude. When he arrived there could be no display of nerves or the slightest appearance he was second guessing the decisions he had made. El had not so gently reminded him that as their leader, they took their cue from him. If he presented as if nothing was wrong, then they would believe the same. With that in mind as the floors ticked off one by one, Peter focused on his breathing, gave himself a solid pep talk, and remembered El’s words about having a good team.

Part two involved a review of the pending files on his desk looking for that diamond in a rough case. A museum theft, forgery, or even a gem heist would do the trick. He doubted he would find a suspect at the level of the Dutchman but surely there was something in that large stack that would be in Neal’s wheelhouse, something that would show off his special talents, a subtle reminder of what expertise Neal brought to the team and why Peter had been eager to give the young man a chance in the first place. After yesterday’s debacle, he and El agreed Neal needed to shine both for the benefits of the team and for his own confidence, not that the con-man would give any outward indication that his confidence had been shaken. 

Diana and bribery played into part three. He planned to take her to lunch at the little Greek mom and pop restaurant a few blocks from the office. It was a favorite destination of hers, and Peter hoped over food and in a private setting away from the office, he could convince her to overlook the reckless behavior she had witnessed from both Neal and more importantly, himself. While Neal had thought Diana was upset with him, Peter knew the truth. She had been scared for Neal. Her pissed off attitude had been reserved for Peter, and he really couldn’t blame her. He had acted without thoughts of the consequences and that simply couldn’t happen ever again. If he could convince her of that, Jones would certainly follow her lead. 

Once that had been accomplished, Peter could turn his attention to Neal, aka part four. So far this part was completely unwritten, but El had assured him when the time came, he would figure it out. And though he still held some self-doubts, he never doubted his wife. If she said he’d come up with something then he believed he would.

Stepping off the elevator, Peter paused outside the glass doors. Taking a deep breath, he pushed through only to find the bullpen area devoid of his people except for Blake. Shit. He had forgotten about him. It had been late when Peter had wrapped up with Hughes. Both Jones and Diana had been packing up and heading out, but Blake apparently had already left, not saying a word to either agent before doing so. Peter knew that had not been good and he had meant to call him... 

As he changed course away from the stairs and towards Blake’s desk instead, Peter automatically re-adjusted his game plan to take on the more immediate need. While Peter knew the junior agent to be quiet and unassuming, Blake also tended to be extremely self-reflective which could present problems given the circumstances. 

All of Peter’s agents were more than capable of handling themselves in the field even under extreme duress. And this was no less true of Blake which is why Peter never had any doubts about adding him to the team despite his youth. However, Peter was well aware that once the adrenalin wore off and the body physically began to crash, the mind came in and took over. If you weren’t careful or if you weren’t prepared for it, it could completely fuck you as Peter could certainly attest to. He didn’t need to look any further than his own near break down the night before to understand just how crippling it could be. With a person like Blake, both young and inexperienced, Peter had already figured out the best strategy was to get him talking early, help him process through the event before he could fall prey to unwarranted internal scrutiny. 

“Good morning, Agent Burke,” Blake said addressing Peter, casually looking his boss over as he approached. There were dark circles under his eyes, and Blake suspected he had gotten little sleep. However if he was feeling tired or less than himself, Agent Burke did not otherwise show it. Still Blake’s gut told him that the man wasn’t nearly as composed as he was making himself out to be. 

“You’ll find my report already in your inbox,” Blake advised once Peter was standing in front of his desk.

Peter nodded, and returned the greeting while sizing Blake up. On the surface, Blake didn’t appear to be distraught but there was something different about him. It took Peter a moment to figure it out. Blake seemed at ease in Peter’s presence, uncharacteristically initiating communication and maintaining eye contact. Typically when around Peter, Blake was reserved and demonstrated an undercurrent of nervousness. No one had to tell Peter that the junior agent was slightly in awe of the older, more experienced man and held him in such high regard that on most occasions he could barely speak without stuttering or stammering. 

This was hardly an uncommon phenomenon with new agents assigned to him fresh out of the academy. Having heard about Agent Burke and his capture of the great white whale Neal Caffrey, new probies entered his unit either overly cocky, hot to impress or they were like Blake, smart but quiet, intimidated by him. The cocky ones he kept only for the requisite amount of time before transferring them out, having no patience for anyone not willing to put the team before themselves. The quiet ones, the ones that had both the brains and fortitude for White Collar, were given longer time to develop but unless they earned Peter’s respect before he lost patience, they too were gone. 

Blake had shown glimpses of the fine agent he could be if (when?) he stopped looking at Peter through rose-colored glasses and had the courage to vocalize his thoughts and opinions on a more consistent basis. Peter had seen just enough thus far that he wasn’t ready to give up on Blake at least not yet. 

Motioning towards the breakroom, Peter said, “I’m just going to get some coffee and then we can debrief in my office.”

“No need, sir,” Blake assured him and caught the look of surprise on Peter’s face. Blake knew what was really being offered and while he appreciated the gesture, it simply wasn’t necessary. He had already gotten what he needed the night before. Since Peter looked unconvinced, Blake clued him in. “I visited Neal last night and we talked.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “You talked…with Neal?”

Since when it came to Neal, Agent Burke could be just a tad possessive and protective Blake thought it in his best interest to elaborate while treading lightly. “I thought he also might need to—debrief.”

Peter inhaled sharply, caught off guard. That thought had not occurred to Peter. Neal had seemed fine when he had dropped him off. But then again, Peter might not have been in the right frame of mind to have noticed. When it came to Neal, you had to be on your game to see anything more than he wanted you to see. “And did he?”

“Yeah, he did,” Blake answered honestly. Though he knew Peter was trying to hide it, Blake still saw the flash of guilt cross the agent’s face. “But we were able to talk each other off the self-blame ledge,” he informed him. 

“I see,” Peter said through clenched teeth feeling as though his fuck-ups from the day before just kept mounting. Mentally, he kicked himself. He should have known better than to have left either one of them alone without first debriefing. At the very least, he should have checked in on both of them before going home last night. “But neither of you-” Peter started to say only to be cut off by Blake.

“I know. Neal knows,” Blake quickly interjected. 

As he watched Peter’s reaction, Blake thought about what he and Neal had discussed the night before about how Peter accepted all the blame and held himself to an impossible standard. Blake wondered whether to broach the topic now with his boss. He had thought a lot about it after he had gotten home and had decided as the most junior agent on the team, it probably wasn’t his place. His relationship wasn’t as established as that of Jones or Diana who were better suited to address it. Burke respected them, often solicited their opinions. While Peter never made him feel lessor than anyone else on his team and had in fact went out of his way to engage with the junior agent, Blake viewed himself as nothing more than a probie in Burke’s eyes. Hell, he couldn’t even call the senior agent by his first name despite the numerous times Agent Burke had asked him to. Blake knew he hadn’t earned that right, not yet.

Now standing in front of his mentor, Blake felt as though he was seeing Agent Burke for the first time, seeing him and not the idolized version of the man Blake thought or wanted him to be. He was a good man and damn good agent but not one without flaws or defects. The agent had been exposed the day before with Neal in a way that Blake had never seen before. If Peter was indeed superman, then Neal just might be his kryptonite.

Blake drew in a breath, realizing he didn’t want to remain silent. Not this time. Even if the man didn’t like what Blake had to say, Agent Burke needed to hear him out and Blake could not in good conscience keep his thoughts to himself. And in the end if Agent Burke was the man Blake thought he was, he might even appreciate Blake speaking his mind.

Before he could chicken out, Blake quickly rose from behind his desk and came to stand directly in front of the senior agent. “You’re not perfect,” Blake all but blurted out.

“Excuse me,” Peter asked, once again caught off guard, Blake’s comment seemingly coming out of nowhere.

“I mean you don’t always have to be perfect because we know you’re not,” Blake attempted to clarify. When Peter only raised an eyebrow displaying even further confusion, Blake could feel himself getting flustered, felt the heat in the pit of his stomach rising all the way to his cheeks. But he made himself remain still and stand tall in front of the man he considered his mentor. 

“That didn’t come out right,” Blake admitted as he watched the crease on the agent’s forehead become more and more pronounced with every word he said. Clearly he was failing to get his point across.

Taking a deep breath, he started over. “I saw you last night in Hughes’ office. You were in there taking the blame, assuming all responsibility.” He stared hard at Peter, waiting for him to try and deny it. When he didn’t, Blake continued, “You couldn’t have predicted our subject would pull a gun and try to shoot Neal. And to feel responsible for something only our subject is truly responsible for is insane. And if you’re thinking Neal shouldn’t have been there in the first place? Well you’re right about that! But that mistake falls on all of us. We’re a team or is that something you just say but don’t actually believe? Because I’ll tell you right now that you can’t give ‘the team’ all the credit when things go right only to take all the blame when it doesn’t!” 

Peter started to correct him that it was his place as senior agent to take the fall only to be cut off for the second time by Blake. The previously quiet, reserved agent had obviously hit his breaking point, the dam had burst and suddenly he had a lot to say. Wisely Peter took a half step back and let the agent vent.

“Don’t! Don’t say that the fault falls on the team lead. That’s—that’s just bullshit! We all--the entire team--had a responsibility to Neal. We look out for each other. So stop seeing that as a failure solely on your part because it’s not!” Blake sucked in quick breath even as he started pointing a finger at Peter. “If you want to feel bad about something look no further than your noble albeit stupid attempt to get to Neal! What were you thinking? Okay, I know what you were thinking, but you breaking cover would have put all of us at even greater risk. You’re our leader and you need to be smarter than that!” Once concluded, Blake’s rapid fire like tangent left him reeling, sucking in air, a little wild eyed as he continued to stare Peter down, almost daring the agent to disagree with anything he had just said. 

Peter rubbed the back of his neck once it was clear Blake was finished what could only be described as a thorough dressing down of the senior agent. Reviewing Blake’s speech, Peter could find little fault in what had been said and concluded the verbal beating may have even been deserved. A feeling of pride overcame him. The Blake he was familiar with never would have had the audacity to stand up to his boss and speak his mind like that. It pleased Peter to think the young agent might finally be taking him off the high pedestal he had placed Peter on. 

Returning his gaze to Blake, he raised an eyebrow and said evenly, “Anything else you’d like to get off your chest?” 

Face turning red, Blake could only shake his head. Now that he had stopped talking, he couldn’t believe what all he had just said to Agent Burke. While he regretted none of it, he was still shocked he had the balls to say anything at all.

Peter put his hands on his hips. “Are you sure? You seem to be on some kind of roll.”

Despite looking uncomfortable, Blake’s shrug was unapologetic. “I covered everything I needed to say, Agent Burke. But thanks for asking, sir.” 

And that blatantly honest statement caused Peter’s lips to curve slightly upward in amusement. His junior agent had literally just grown up before his very eyes and had earned Peter’s respect in the process. There was only one thing left to do…

“Well then Blake, I think it’s time you started calling me Peter, don’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone still sticking with this story. The final chapter is almost finished. It has a happy ending and hopefully some humor you will enjoy. As always comments are welcome.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter asked, somewhat warily, “But what’s going on in there?” 
> 
> Hughes shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying, “Team building."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's bonus day: two chapters for the price of one!

After his conversation with Blake, Peter was feeling better and no longer had to feign confidence that his plan would be successful. With a bounce in his step ascending the stairs, he was looking forward to getting to his office and tackling the awaiting case files. But before he could make it there, he saw Hughes loitering outside of the conference room. The senior agent spied Peter and walked towards him. 

“Burke,” Hughes barked in greeting.

Peter nodded in return and then informed the senior agent with as much seriousness as he could muster, “Blake just told me I’m not perfect.”

“I could have told you that,” was Hughes’ snapped response. Then with a smile barely cracking his lips added, “But about damn time the kid stop acting like you walked on water.”

“They grow up fast these days,” Peter joked.

“Yeah, and if you’re not careful, pretty soon he’ll be visiting Sing Sing looking to bring home his very own pet convict.”

Peter took on a look of pure innocence as if he had no idea what Hughes’ was referring to. Hughes just snorted and then motioned towards the conference room. “I assume what’s going on in there is all your doing?” At Peter’s blank look, Hughes smirked. “Maybe Blake’s not your only kid going rogue today.” Then before Peter could response, he scowled, “Serves you right after all the heartburn you’ve caused me over the years and the bullshit you tried to sell me last night.” Glancing down the hallway and then back at Peter, Hughes said smugly, “I’ll just leave this in your very capable hands to deal with.”

Before Hughes could move, Peter asked, somewhat warily, “But what’s going on in there?” 

Hughes shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying, “Team building. Now if you’ll excuse me, Burke, apparently I have to see Blake about a requisition order.”

As he walked away Peter could hear Hughes muttering, “Fine, I’ll sign off on the damn thing…for all the good it will do…probably would rather die than be caught dead wearing one…” 

Peter let the agent go, not bothering to ask any questions although at least a dozen or so had entered his mind. Instead, Peter focused his attention on the conference room, curious as to the activities going on inside. Team building, Hughes had said. 

As he made his way down the hall, Peter could hear voices drifting from inside the room. Once he had reached the open doorway, his stomach did a flip flop seeing Neal seated at the table with both Jones and Diana hovering over his shoulders. Neal’s chair was facing away so Peter couldn’t see his expression but his agents were looking as severe as he had ever seen them. 

A protective instinct came over Peter which was utterly ridiculous. Neal was in FBI space with two of his finest agents. He was hardly in harm’s way. But as Elizabeth had pointed out, Peter was far from rational when it came to Neal so he was on the verge of barreling straight into the room when at that moment Diana looked up and caught his eye. 

The female agent calmly held his gaze silently imploring Peter to remain outside and not interfere. Following a brief moment of indecision, Peter acquiesced with a nod and broke off eye contact. Diana had been asking him for his trust, and he had no reason not to give it to her. So despite wanting to enter and take complete control of the room, Peter instead leaned back against the hallway wall where he remained out of sight from all those inside. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Peter closed his eyes and listened.

“You’re not serious?!” That came from Neal, and Peter heard the indignant tone in his voice.

“Look at our faces, Caffrey,” Diana snapped back at him. “Do we look like we’re joking with you?” 

There was a long pause, followed by Diana speaking again in her normal controlled, no-nonsense way. “Hughes is signing off on the requisition form as we speak so when we’re finished here you’ll go find Blake. He will personally escort you down to the fifteenth floor where you will proceed to be fitted for your very own bulletproof vest. And you will wear it when ordered to do so!” 

Another pause and to Peter’s surprise there was no apparent argument from Neal. He had at least expected some snark comment about Kevlar not being in style. Instead he remained silent.

Next Jones joined in the conversation. “The vest is just part of it. Starting today and every day until instructed otherwise, you will report to the shooting range where I will be teaching you proper firearm safety.”

Peter knew this would get a response and Neal did not disappoint.

“I don’t know if Peter told you or not, but I don’t really like guns!” Neal could be heard whining. 

Peter snorted knowing that was an understatement. Neal despised guns but that wasn’t enough for Peter to interfere on Neal’s behalf. If he was going out into the field on a regular basis, it was prudent Neal learn at least the basics even if technically as a felon he wasn’t supposed to handle a firearm. It fell in line with one of Peter’s belief, one he had instilled in his team: hope for the best, but plan for the worst. This definitely fell into the latter category.

Jones’ response to Neal was pure eloquence, “Tough!” Then he elaborated, “Should the situation present itself, we need to know you can handle a weapon without accidentally shooting yourself or anyone else on the team.”

“You should know Peter has a saying,” Diana informed Neal. “Hope for the best--”

“-but plan for the worst,” Jones finished. Peter couldn’t help but grin. He had taught them well. 

“Is that it?” Neal asked and his tone told Peter the con-man expected they weren’t finished with him yet. 

“No,” Diana and Jones answered at the same time causing Peter to chuckle. 

“Starting today after work and every day until instructed otherwise--”

Peter heard Neal mutter, “I’m sensing a theme…”

Diana ignored the interruption and continued without missing a beat, “-you and I will be spending quality time together in the gym.”

“Doing what?” Neal asked in a guarded tone.

“Defensive training,” was Diana’s firm response. 

“Sounds like just an excuse for you to take great pleasure in tossing my ass around,” Neal argued. 

“Of course not,” Diana denied and Peter could easily imagine the smirk on her face that said otherwise.

Then from Jones, “What she means is that’s only an added benefit.”

Peter knew Neal was less than thrilled with the idea and Peter certainly didn’t envy Neal’s position. Diana was a beast in the gym and not one to be messed with. Peter had every confidence in her as an instructor knowing she would show little to no mercy but wouldn’t allow Neal to get hurt either. Well, his pride might take a beating, but by the time she was finished with Neal, the young man would be more than capable of handling himself in almost any situation.

As he thought about what Jones and Diana were doing, Peter realized that despite the serious nature that had lead up to needing this talk, Peter could tell, could hear it in their voices, that both agents were enjoying themselves. They were developing camaraderie with Neal, and in their own unique ways were inviting him into their exclusive club. And because of it, Peter felt some of his tension melt away. 

Still, he didn’t intend to fully scrap the plan he and El had devised. He would look through the case files for a good one. His lunch idea had evolved to now include Jones as well, Peter’s way of thanking them. He should have known they would do what good agents do: evaluate the situation, identify the problem, and work creative to resolve the issue. Damn between Blake standing up to him and now Jones and Diana tag-teaming with Neal, Peter was near bursting with pride for his team. 

Returning his attention to the conference room, Peter realized it was quiet, too quiet. Then Peter heard Neal break the silence in a voice that was low and dare he say contrite? “You guys don’t have to do this.” 

Disagreeing, Jones responded, “Yeah, we kind of do!”

When Neal started to protest, Diana silenced him. “Listen up Caffrey, because we’re only going to say this once.” Diana paused and Peter couldn’t help but step closer into the doorway, his curiosity getting the better of him. He watched as Diana ignored Peter and maintained her focus on Neal. She waited for the young man to meet her gaze. Then in a sober tone she stated, “You aren’t just a valuable asset, you are a valuable member of this team. And I’ll be damned if we’re going to lose you simply because you lack the necessary training to handle yourself in the field! Got it?”

“You think I’m invaluable?” Neal questioned and Peter witnessed him sporting a classic Caffrey shit-eating grin.

Feeling it was as good a time as any to make his presence known Peter entered the room and looked sternly at his young ward. “I believe she said valuable not invaluable,” Peter amended.

With a shrug, Neal flashed his pearly whites, full blinding wattage on display. “You say tomato, I say tomahto…”

Peter snorted in response while Jones and Diana just shook their heads and stepped back from Neal. 

“Anyway Peter,” Neal said, rising to his feet. “I’m glad you’re here. Diana’s violating my eighth amendment right regarding cruel and unusual punishment!” 

This caused Jones to snort. “Because she wants to teach you how to defend yourself?”

“Because she wants me to wear a bulletproof vest,” Neal corrected sounding offended. “Do you have any idea how Kevlar’s going to affect the lines of my suit?!” 

Peter sent him a mock glare, “Enough. Go find Blake for that fitting.”

“Not yet,” Diana interjected motioning to Jones. “Just so you know we are serious, we took the liberties of drawing up a contract.” 

Peter watched as Jones slid a single sheet of paper over to Neal who picked it up and skimmed through it. 

“And before you ask,” Diana said, “no signature means no field work. You can sit at your desk for the next three years, 10 months, and 17 days rotting away on cold cases and mortgage fraud.” 

Neal swallowed hard and immediately took the pen Jones held out to him. Quickly he signed the contract and without a word slid it over to Jones.

“Now you can go see Blake,” Diana ordered. 

Peter looked from Jones to Diana. They had written up a contract? Obviously his two agents had put a lot of thought into their game plan for dealing with Neal.

Witnessing Peter’s calculating look, Diana suspected her boss was itching to talk, possibly even disagreeing with her handling of the situation. If that was indeed the case, she preferred it to be a one on one conversation because she was not backing down from the plan she and Jones had collaborated on. Everything in that contract was crucial to the success of their team and Peter would have to understand that.

“Jones,” Peter said, not taking his gaze away from Diana. “Go with Neal. Make sure he doesn’t make any calls requesting special tailoring of his vest.”

Having already sensed a possible confrontation, Jones breathed a sigh of relief to be let off the hook. “Come on, Caffrey.”

Leaning against the wall, Peter waited for Neal and Jones to pass by. Once alone, Diana went on the offensive. “Boss, say whatever’s on your mind, but we’re enforcing this contract!”

“Thank you,” was all Peter could say. He was feeling a bit too emotional to say anything more than that. All of his worry last night about the team accepting Neal had been for naught. El had been right. He had a good team and he should have just trusted them from the beginning.

“You’re not going to argue against the contract?” Diana asked, suspicious. She had been prepared to make her case for why it was necessary, spell out exactly why Neal shouldn’t get any special treatment, but Peter didn’t seem the least bit upset and looked almost…relieved. 

Peter shook his head, a slight frown on his face when he realized she had expected him to fight her on this. “No, the contract’s a great idea. Funny, I was up half the night trying to figure out how to get you and everyone else to accept Neal as part of the team. It never occurred to me that you and Jones would take matters into your own hands like this. So thank you.”

Diana was taken back by Peter’s words and a little confused. “You were actually worried? Well that was stupid.” She bluntly informed him. “Neal’s already part of the team, has been since the Dutchman case, didn’t you know that?”

A little more tension released from Peter knowing Diana was truly perplexed. “I guess I hoped but wasn’t sure.”

Sensing it was important Diana paused and chose her words carefully. “Neal’s smart, charming, and a royal but likeable pain in the ass. When you brought him on board, we all had the chance to walk away. We didn’t. But, if he’s going to keep working with us, he needs to be prepared.” 

Peter nodded, sobering. “That was my fault.” 

“That’s just it, Peter, it wasn’t your fault,” Diana insisted. “As a team, we failed him. As a team, we’ll fix it.”

“Blake said the same thing,” Peter advised. 

“Of course he did. He was part of the team meeting we had this morning to come up with our strategy. The contract was his idea actually,” Diana said. Then she added as an afterthought, “not that Neal won’t try to wiggle his way out of it, but we had the Harvard crew vetting it closely like their very lives depended on it.”

“Did it?” Peter asked, clearly amused. He could easily visualize Diana hovering over the Harvard crew. Her most intimidating scowl would be on her face as she demanded their full attention on the document or else answer to her. Diana was respected by all of her colleagues, but that didn’t mean she didn’t also scare the bejesus out of them from time to time. Truth be told, she had scared the hell out of him on more than one occasion.

“They may have somehow gotten that impression,” Diana answered, her tone completely non-apologetic. “Still, it wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t find some loophole to exploit,” she said sounding exasperated. She didn’t want Peter to know she was actually looking forward to what Neal would come up with and how she would combat it. 

“If anyone can, it will be Neal,” Peter agreed with a knowing smile.

Diana let Peter have his moment of comic relief but there was still one other matter that required attention and it was a serious one. Clearing her throat to get Peter’s attention, she said quietly, “We need to discuss the other thing that happened yesterday.”

The smile faded from his lips and Peter sighed. He knew exactly what Diana was referring to. He had broken cover and on top of breaking his promise to his wife, his actions could have endangered the team as well. “That won’t happen again,” Peter assured her just as he had Blake. Of course the problem was Peter wasn’t sure it was a promise he could keep.

“Afraid that’s not going to be good enough,” Diana answered, again unapologetic as she pointed down to a second document on the table.

Warily Peter picked it up and read it over. It was similar to the last clause of Neal’s contract in that Peter agreed to present himself at the gym every day after work until further notice for defensive training. Raising an amused eyebrow, Peter echoed Neal’s words from earlier. “Is this just an excuse for you to take great pleasure in tossing my ass around?” 

Biting her lip, Diana managed to keep the smirk off her face. “Like Jones said, just an added benefit.” Then she turned serious. “I need a partner to demonstrate the moves for Neal, and you need to see firsthand that he can take care of himself. Otherwise you’re going to be a problem and you know it.”

He did but Peter challenged her anyway. Pointing to the document, he said, “I don’t have to sign this. I outrank you.”

“You do,” Diana conceded. “But-” 

Peter really didn’t like that look at all. Diana suddenly looked like the cat that had eaten the canary. “But--” Peter prodded.

“I’ve already requested and received approval,” she happily informed him.

Peter didn’t hide his annoyance. “You went to Hughes?!”

Diana simply shook her head, biting her lip again. “Higher.”

“Bancroft? You went to the AD?!”

Shaking her head, Diana looked rather proud of herself. “With this, I knew I needed to go straight to the top.”

Peter was perplexed until he sensed a presence behind him, one that he was totally not expecting but probably should have seen coming. He glared at Diana knowing how expertly he had just been played and briefly wondered if he needed to reconsider hiring the super smart ones. Then with a wry smile, he turned to face the highest authority in his life. “Hi, hon.” 

“Hi, hon,” Elizabeth practically chirped as she brushed a quick kiss on his cheek. Then she held up his FBI logoed duffle bag which he just knew contained gym clothes for both Neal and himself. His wife smiled brightly, with that mischievous sparkle he normally loved to see in her eyes. “Diana called. I think you’ll find everything you and Neal need. I’ll just leave it in your office.”

“Okay, hon, thanks—that’s just great,” Peter said with fake appreciation.

El laughed knowing her husband too well. “Oh, hon, don’t worry. Diana has promised me she won’t break you like she did last time, and I’ve already added Tylenol, IcyHot patches, and Biofreeze gel to my grocery list,” she assured him. 

Listening to her, Peter’s face immediately went flush with embarrassment. Diana hadn’t exactly broken him last time. True he had not moved from the couch the following day…but it had been a Saturday and he had recovered…mostly, by the time Monday had rolled around.

Watching the exchange, Diana bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She tamped her amusement down when Peter sent her another deathly glare. “Boss, this is what’s best for the team.” 

Peter would have protested if A) Diana hadn’t been right and/or B) he thought he would have received even the smallest amount of sympathy from his wife. It was obvious the two women had joined forces to collude against him and Peter didn’t stand a chance in hell of outwitting them. It was best to concede and throw in the towel.

“Peter, hon,” Elizabeth said now sporting her most innocent, beguiling smile. “I suggest you sign the damn form now.”

Reaching for the pen that Diana so helpfully held out to him, Peter uttered a simple, “yes, dear.” Then, as he scribbled his signature Peter couldn’t help but wonder just when his own wife had become part of the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the story. Hope it ends on a high note for everyone. I wanted to write a little humor given the current times.


End file.
